


Ghost In The Stalls

by AnnieMantic



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: And Kuroko is unsurprisingly helpful, Gen, KagaKuroExchange, Kagami is easily spoop'd, Late night study, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMantic/pseuds/AnnieMantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s about an inch of cold coffee in the bottom of the paper cup just to the right of your laptop, and by god you’re going to make it last.</p>
<p>You sort of have to. You ran out of change for the coffee machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost In The Stalls

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Perildoe](http://perildoe.tumblr.com/) as part of the [KagaKuroExchange](http://kagakuroexchange.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you for giving me a reason to write these two numbskulls again; it was like stepping back into a comfortable pair of shoes. I hope that I filled your prompt in a way that made you smile. It certainly made me smile. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

At one-am, you thought you’d done enough to pass; maybe not enough to get a _good_ grade, per say, but definitely enough to warrant putting down each and every complicated textbook you own on sport physiotherapy and dancing around the pile with a beer in each hand and a smile on your face. 

That was two hours ago and yet, here you still are; tired, eyes red enough to match your hair and chin cushioned in your palm as you scroll through _another_ research paper on the Causation of Hamstring Injuries. You’re pretty certain that you’re not even taking in the words anymore, and you definitely aren’t in any position for them to make the slightest bit of sense. There’s about an inch of cold coffee in the bottom of the paper cup just to the right of your laptop, and by god you’re going to make it last. 

You sort of have to. You ran out of change for the coffee machine. 

Covering your mouth with a hand as you yawn, you blink blearily around the quiet library. Aomine told you to start studying last month, and you’d just laughed him off; as your best friend, it made sense for him to nag you on keeping on top of your revision of an entire semester’s worth of work… but as your worst enemy, it was delivered in a way that make you feel like he _expected_ you to bomb if you didn’t put in the effort. 

In hindsight, putting it all off until the _night before your finals_ out of spite is probably going to be something you’ll be regretting for a long time if you fail, if only for the fact that Aomine Daiki will _never_ let you forget it. 

You reach for your phone with a clumsy hand as you thumb it open, rubbing at your tired eyes with a knuckle. It’s 03:05, and there’s a single message sitting pretty in your inbox. 

_Ahomine: Still @ library? LMAO U fuckin suck Kagami. Inviting Satsuki over, dont wait up._

“Fuckass…” you grumble to yourself as you push your phone into your back pocket and hoist yourself out of your chair. You’re starting to cramp up, and you think you vaguely remember there being a catalogue of injury treatments somewhere in the sports and health section. Maybe finding it will help you wake up a little, and so you shove your hands into your hoodie pockets and set off, not worrying about packing up any of your crap. It’s not like anyone else is stupid enough to be here this late. 

You decide to flip through the book (more like a goddamn _tome,_ the thing has nearly 800 pages) at the shelf, propping your hip and shoulder against the wood, the soft rustle of the pages turning the only sound to break the silence. 

That is, until the unmistakable sound of a book hitting the ground in the next aisle over has you leaping out of your skin. You can feel the hair on the back of your neck bristling like a startled cat, and for a second you can’t move. You then remember that you are 6’3 and still work out at least three times a week despite being unable to play basketball anymore, and decide that whoever it is that’s in the library with you can’t be more threatening than you are. You keep ahold of the book; if push comes to shove, you can always just launch it at the interloper and hope that its hefty weight will at least send them flying. 

You cautiously poke your head around the end of the bookshelves and peer down, eyes squinted as you try to make out whoever it is in the dim light. But there’s no-one. You can see the book on the floor, spine bending and pages curled slightly from where it’s landed at a funny angle, but no person who could’ve knocked it off. 

Weird. 

You decide that the book must’ve fallen on its own as you walk towards it to pick it up, footfalls heavy on the thin carpet. Maybe you yourself knocked it off when you lent on the shelves to read. That must’ve been it. Bending, you close the book and slot it back into the space it vacated before turning and- 

_There. Fucking **there.**_

You see something grey and ambiguous flit across the end of aisle and deeper into the library, completely soundless and gone within a second. It’s so fast, you’re not even sure if you actually _saw_ anything. You could maybe write it off as being tired and too accustomed to the silence. 

Still… Cautiously, you take a step towards the _thing_ instead of the relative safety of your desk, books and laptop. The idea that someone else could be here at this time is laughable, and you’d like to hope that they’d be smart enough to not be a _dick_ and creep around, especially with you being as big as you are. You’re not making any attempts to be quiet, after all. 

But the main walkway between the stacks of books is as barren and empty as a cemetery, and you _really_ wish your brain hadn’t supplied that word. You shiver in your hoodie and decide that you’ve wasted enough time pretending to be a ghostbuster when you really should be studying… or at least think about heading home and getting a couple hours of sleep, Aomine and his girlfriend getting freaky be damned. 

Shaking your head, you turn and go back towards the desks, shoulders slightly hunched as you hurry past the stacks, resolutely ignoring the dark depths of each and every one- 

_Fucking there again,_ you definitely saw something this time! You skid to a halt, gasping in surprise as you stare wide-eyed into the darkness of the Educating Children aisle. Right there, half-way down, something’s _moving,_ undulating back and forth in the half-light. 

You swallow, heart-rate increasing as nervous butterflies take flight in your stomach. You’re not _scared._ Dead people can’t hurt you, and you suddenly remember every ghost story you’ve ever been told about your campus. Not necessarily about the library, but _dammit_ a ghost isn’t limited by things as trivial as building structure! 

“Y-yo.” You call softly, wincing internally at how your voice wavers. “Is someone there? Dude, quit being spooky; it’s way too early in the morning for this shit.” 

You don’t mean to sound so blunt, but you’re _unnerved._ There’s no answer, and you’re caught between fight or flight when the shape reforms and becomes a person as they step forward, blinking owlishly at you from the dark. 

They’re… small. Small and very much non-threatening, with big blue eyes and a thin frame. Whoever he is, he’s definitely not the nightmare you were picturing, and you deflate with relief as the guy cocks his head. He reaches up to pull off his headphones (bright pink and eye watering, _jesus),_ and you can hear the tinny sound of what sounds like electro-dance music from around his neck. 

“Did you say something?” the guy says, his voice deeper than you were expecting and encouragingly mild. Looks like the dude doesn’t know that he’s been scaring you shitless for the last five minutes, and you can’t find it in yourself to be angry about something that is a simple misunderstanding on his part. 

You still feel sorta creeped, though. 

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t know anyone else was here. I thought…” you pause. You don’t think you actually want to tell this stranger that you thought he was a _ghost,_ but the blue-haired person is stepping closer, his face still painfully open and huh. 

He’s cute. Who’d have thought it? 

“I’ll admit, I didn’t think anyone else would be here, either. I hope I didn’t startle you. My friends have told me that I tend not to make much noise when I move.” You snort at the slight hint of bafflement in the guy’s voice, and you relax immediately. 

“Yeah, no shit! I think I caught you walking past the sports section, but I didn’t really _see you,_ so it was pretty fucking creepy!” The boy blinks. “Uh, not to say that it’s your fault or anything, just… I think I’m overtired.” You smile sheepishly before holding your hand out to the stranger. “I’m Kagami, by the way.” 

“...Kuroko. It’s nice to meet you, Kagami-kun.” Kuroko’s palm is small and warm in your own, and your hand tingles pleasantly even after you let go. He readjusts his backpack before looking up at you, his smile small and soft. You like it. “What brings you here at this hour?” 

“I could ask the same of you,” you tease, grinning wide. “But um. I’m here cramming. I’ve got an exam in, like-” you fish out your phone and squint in the bright light of it’s screen, “- four and a half hours that I am _so_ not prepared for, so here we are.” 

“I see. And do you feel like it’s helping?” 

“I dunno, man. I did about an hour or so ago, but now I’m so tired that nothing’s actually sticking.” You yawn widely, only just remembering to cover your mouth. Kuroko doesn’t seem to mind. “So what’s your excuse, Kuroko?” 

“I like the library more when there are no people in it.” He says simply as he steps out from the shadows of his books and comes to stand in front of you. He comes up to your shoulder, and whilst you’re used to towering over most people, there’s something about him that seems very small and fragile. “So I come at night. My friends think I am crazy, but I find it easier to concentrate without distractions.”

“I get the headphones, then,” you add, and Kuroko nods at you with a slightly wider smile. You gesture towards the study area, where your laptop and books await, and Kuroko nods before falling into step with you. “So you’re not here for any sort of deadline?” 

“Not this time.” You look down at Kuroko, and the boy is looking up at you, purposefully blank-faced. You feel your lips twitching and after a moment of struggle, you break out into laughter, your voice ringing through the large room as you fall into your chair. 

He’s _funny,_ in a straight-laced and flat sort of way. It’s almost sarcastic, and you already know that you think Kuroko will make an excellent friend, if you guys continue to hit it off. From the look on the other guy’s face, all self-satisfied and happy, you think you’ve got a good shot. Still chuckling quietly, you touch the trackpad of your laptop to wake it back up and sigh at the onslaught of information. Kuroko seems to pick up on your dejected sigh. 

“Is there a problem, Kagami-kun?” 

“Nah. I think I might be fuckin’ screwed, but it’s my own fault, right?” Kuroko hums before gesturing for your laptop. You raise an eyebrow in question, but push it across the table towards him anyway. The light reflects off his pale face, making him look even more ghost-like and ethereal. It’s a good look on him.

“I shall quiz you. Perhaps a change of pace will help things ‘stick better.’” It’s not a bad idea, and you grin as you flip open your notebook to a clean page before levelling a look at Kuroko. 

“Bring it on.” 

\---

“...A 20 year old male soccer player presents with a Grade II right lateral ankle sprain upon evaluation. What are the characteristics of a Grade II ankle sprain?”

_Ouch._ Your own ankles throb, a phantom pain from a long time ago. Your own injury was a lot worse than a Grade II; bad enough that it stopped you from playing the sport you love and put you on the courtside and pursuing the job that you’re studying for now. 

Kuroko is waiting patiently for your answer, eyes as wide and bright as they were when you meet him an hour ago. The sun is beginning to peak, brightening the sky into a cold grey along the horizon, and you yawn widely before giving an answer. 

“Uh… I think a partial tear of the lateral ligament complex with mild joint instability, moderate intra-capsular swelling and tenderness? Oh, and some loss of joint function.” 

“Correct.” Kuroko smiles at you, and you feel the same warmth you did the last time you got a question right. “See? I think you have nothing to worry about, Kagami-kun. Just try to stay awake through your exam.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” You’re _exhausted,_ and you rub your eyes with your palms as Kuroko begins packing up your things. “Am I going somewhere?” 

“I think it would be a good idea to stop whilst we are ahead, Kagami-kun.” Your laptop trills out it’s shutdown jingle as Kuroko closes the lid and passes it back to you. “There is a 24 diner not far off of campus. Would you… I mean, I was thinking of having breakfast there, if you…” 

Kuroko’s stumbling over his words is _adorable,_ and you can’t help but smile gently at the smaller guy. 

“Sounds good, Kuroko. I need so much coffee, holy shit.” Seemingly satisfied by your answer, Kuroko stands up and waits for you to pack up the rest of your stuff before leading the way out of the library and onto the university grounds. It’s cold, and you shiver in your hoodie as your new friend lengthens his stride and heads towards the rest of the town. You make idle chit-chat as you walk, further expanding on the few facts that you’d managed to worm out of the guy as he’d been quizzing you. 

You find out that he wants to teach kindergarten kids rather than middle-schoolers or higher. He not only likes dogs, but has one at home with his parents that he misses terribly, and that _hey,_ he used to play basketball in highschool, like you did. He tells you about how he loved the game, and seriously entertained trying to go pro, but never found anyone who could sync with his style of play enough to carry it forwards. 

As you sit down and order pancakes and coffee from the tired-looking waitress in the small and well-lit diner, you tell Kuroko about your own sporting career; how you helped take your team to nationals. How you won almost every game you played and how you thought that you would be able to play forever. How you pushed yourself to score the final basket in a championship game, jumped to high and too far and tore the ligaments in both of your ankles. How your physiotherapist was the only one who believed that you’d be able to play again… and how crushed she was when she was wrong. 

“I mean, it wasn’t her fault,” you say after a long pause; Kuroko’s staring at you with something close to pity, and you shove a pancake in your mouth whole to avoid from having to talk anymore about it. Even after two years of university, and about three years since the accident, it’s still a bit of touchy subject, and you don’t want to say something that will ruin this new friendship before it’s even started. “She did what she could. And y’know, she inspired me enough to be here, y’know?” 

“I understand.” Kuroko stirs his milkshake with his straw, quiet for a moment. “Does she know that you’re here?” 

“Alex? Sure. I kept in touch with her; she’s pretty awesome.” She _doesn’t_ know that you’ve crammed for your final exam, and you know for a fact that you won’t tell her on pain of death. Her good luck text message had been the thing to guilt you into spending an all-nighter at the library, after all. Shrugging, you wash down the syrupy goodness with a large gulp of coffee, before catching Kuroko’s eye over his drink. You both smile, and it makes your stomach flop pleasantly. 

The boy’s got no business being that adorable. 

“So, um.” You clear your throat. “If I pass, I was going to have a party gathering sort of thing this weekend. Couple of guys, beer and pizza… casual, y’know. D’you think you’d be interested in coming? I mean, it’ll partly be thanks to you if I _do_ pass…” You rub the back of your neck. You _hate_ this part, where the other person pretends to consider your fumbling attempts at beginning a courtship, and you expect Kuroko to let you down gently. 

“I think I would. Should I bring my own beer?” Kuroko says lightly after a moment. You look up, your face a picture of shock. He’s watching you closely, his cheeks dusted pink and _yes,_ you think. 

_This one could be a keeper._

“If you want. I’ll have enough to go around, but whatever.” You aim for flippant, but sound eager. Kuroko doesn’t seem to mind. 

And funnily enough, neither do you.


End file.
